


It Just Was

by skargasm



Series: Taming the Muse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, LJ Prompt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't even remember when this had become the norm - it just was. But now it was leading to something different....</p><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	It Just Was

His lips were so unexpectedly soft. He had seen them pursed with irritation; watched them stretched thin as he seethed with rage; curled back from his elongating canines as he fought against yet another supernatural cluster-fuck. He had seen all of that, fantasised so many times about Derek turning to him with passion and lust instead of anger and irritation. But somehow he had never imagined that his lips would be so soft. 

Derek’s lips were gentle, questing, asking instead of demanding, coaxing instead of forcing. It was—heady. 

He had been kissed—the girls and guys at college had appreciated Stiles so much more than anyone at High School—and he knew he was an equal opportunity kinda guy and the sex of the person had nothing to do with his attraction to them. But he had never experienced a kiss like this—had never felt so cherished, almost _adored_ as he did at this moment in time. 

It was an incongruous situation—bloody, bedraggled and trapped—now wasn’t really the time. They should be trying to escape, figure out how to contact the pack, working out any weaknesses that their captives might have. Instead, they were huddled together on the dirt, Derek’s hands running all over his body, checking to be sure that Stiles wasn’t hurt. And kissing him. 

He did that a lot. Not the kissing—this was definitely a first—but the body-check. That was a definite thing and Stiles realised he had become accustomed to it, to _letting_ Derek do it. In the aftermath of whatever monster of the week had attacked and been defeated, there was a familiar pattern: check in with the parents; order huge amounts of take-out; congregate at the old Hale house and ‘debrief’. And somehow, somewhere in all of that, Derek would take Stiles to one side, ignore any (barely there) protestations that he was fine and perfectly capable of looking after himself and did Derek have no concept of personal space? and check him out for scratches, bruises or wounds. And in the process, more often than not, scent marking Stiles in moves that weren’t even remotely subtle. And it was only now that this was finally happening—that he was learning the shape and feel of Derek’s mouth, his tongue, the feel of his stubbled cheek beneath his palm—that Stiles wondered why they never discussed it. It just—was. 

“Derek—“ He had never heard his voice sound like that—soft, gentle—loving. He stared into Derek’s eyes, lips swollen from their kisses, heart thumping in his chest. 

“Stiles, I—“ The door crashed in, the familiar sounds of Erica and Boyd’s growls filling the air, the far off sounds of fighting filtering into the room. 

“Found ‘em!” Erica’s voice was full of satisfaction and Stiles struggled to smile at her as she casually hauled him to his feet, slapping dirt from his clothes enthusiastically. Over his shoulder, he watched as Boyd helped Derek to his feet; met Derek’s gaze for a frozen moment in time before they were being hustled out of the room, slipping past the fighting. By the time they were being bundled into his jeep and Erica was putting her foot down in a way that would normally have him objecting at her less than gentle treatment of Roscoe Stiles could feel himself succumbing to unconsciousness. The last thing he felt before the darkness took him was Derek’s hands coasting over his body in that oh so familiar way, checking him for injuries as a gentle kiss was being placed on his forehead by those incredibly soft lips.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, a bit of nothing that goes nowhere - who the hell know where it came from!
> 
> * * *


End file.
